Hakuna Bazooka
by Dragon's Ember
Summary: Nosedive gets a bazooka, a karaoke machine, and a box of tacos. What could go wrong?


Wildwing was walking down the hall and reading over some advertising proposals Phil had given him. Nosedive casually passed by him, but Wildwing took no notice.

"Hey, bro," Nosedive said.

"Hey, Dive," Wildwing replied, looking up briefly. Then he stopped when he realized Nosedive was carrying a bazooka – yes, a bazooka – and a box and some kind of machine.

"Nosedive?" he said. Nosedive turned around.

"What?"

"What's all that?"

"A karaoke machine, a bazooka, and a box of super rare, _quadruple_ -spicy tacos."

"Okay," Wildwing said slowly. "Where did you get them?"

"Thrash's uncle was cleaning his garage and he gave Thrash a bunch of random junk. So he said I could have this stuff."

"The tacos, too?"

"Oh, those are just from Thrash, not the garage."

"Why did Thrash's uncle have a bazooka?"

"I don't know, but it's sweet. Look at the flame decals."

"You know we have our _own_ bazookas, right?"

"Yeah, that shoot _pucks_. This is an authentic lethal weapon, man. With flames!"

"Yeah..." Wildwing eyed the bazooka. There were times when he questioned the sanity of Thrash and his relatives, and Nosedive for associating with them. This was one of those times.

"And I'm not gonna use it, okay?" Nosedive said as if reading his brother's mind. "I'm just gonna put it on the wall or something."

"Promise?"

Nosedive rolled his eyes. "Yes, I promise."

Wildwing gave him a skeptical look. "Okay," he said, returning to the advertising papers. "Have fun, then."

"Hey, you wanna try out the karaoke machine?" Nosedive asked.

"Uh, no," Wildwing said flatly.

"But you _love_ karaoke."

"Shh!" Wildwing clamped his hand over Nosedive's beak and looked around wildly. Lacking the use of a free hand, Nosedive jerked his beak free.

"What?"

"No one can know I like karaoke."

"Why?"

"Because I'm a terrible singer."

"No, you're not."

"You told me."

Nosedive paused. "Okay, you are," he said, "but it would just be us. No one would have to know."

"I don't know, Dive."

"Come on, you got somethin' better to do?"

"Well, I kind of have to..." Wildwing trailed off. He looked at the papers in his hand. The long, boring papers. Nosedive put on his puppy dog face.

"Don't you wanna sing with your baby brother? For old time's sake?"

Meanwhile, Duke and Mallory were watching TV in the rec room.

"Duke?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you hear music... and some dying cats?" Mallory asked. Duke listened. There was music playing faintly and something akin to semi-melodic screeching along with it.

"Yeah."

"Is that Nosedive and Wildwing... _singing_?"

"Oh, that ain't singin'," Duke said. "Come on."

He and Mallory went to find the source of the noise, which, as usual, was Nosedive's room. Duke entered the passcode, the doors opened, and there was Nosedive and Wildwing with a karaoke machine. They were so deeply engrossed in their earsplitting performance that they didn't notice the two ducks grinning in the doorway. There's nothing quite as amusing (or terrifying) as seeing your dignified captain standing on a couch and singing _Hakuna Matata_ – very, very badly.

" _It's our problem-freeeee philosophyyyyy..."_

"Hey, boys!" Mallory said. The singing drakes froze, and Wildwing practically fell off the couch. Nosedive turned the music off and there was an awkward silence.

"Is that a karaoke machine?" Mallory asked them.

"Yeah," Nosedive said. He knew he was a bad singer, but he didn't care. Wildwing, on the other hand, was blushing up a storm under his feathers.

"You like karaoke, Wing?" Duke asked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Uh... yeah," Wildwing replied quietly.

"Well, that's never been established. Is that a real bazooka?" Duke pointed at the bazooka which Nosedive had so lovingly placed on the floor. Nosedive grinned.

"Yeah."

"Nice flames."

"Aren't they cool? Hey, do _you_ guys wanna try the karaoke machine?"

"Eh, maybe some other time," Duke said, and he turned to leave.

"Yeah, you guys have fun," said Mallory. She followed Duke out, and once the doors had closed he started laughing. Mallory smacked him in the shoulder, trying not to crack up herself. "Don't laugh at them."

"But they're so bad," Duke said between laughs. "I actually feel sorry for 'em."

"Oh, come on. Can you do better?"

"I'm no soprano, sweetheart, but I can sing better than _that_." He stopped laughing and looked thoughtful. "How 'bout you?"

Mallory raised an eyebrow. "I like to think I have _some_ talent."

"Hmm. Well, we're gonna have to find out who's better, then."

"We are?"

"Don't tell me you're not curious."

He gave her his signature smirk and Mallory crossed her arms. "Okay, you're on," she said. "But not today. Let's just go finish the show."

Then rock music blasted from Nosedive's room and he started singing again. _"On the road to gloraaayyy! Ain't no turnin' back!"_

Duke and Mallory glared at the metal doors. As funny as Nosedive's singing was, it was also incredibly annoying. And Wildwing's was even worse.

"Or we can go to the mall."

"Let's go."

* * *

Nosedive sat in his room fiddling with the bazooka. Wildwing had retreated to who-knows-where, probably out of embarrassment. Nosedive had long since turned off the karaoke machine, much to the relief of his teammates, and was now debating on where to hang the bazooka. But something felt wrong. It was a bazooka – it was meant to blow things up. And there hadn't been nearly enough explosions lately, what with Dragaunus' ship being in the ocean and all. Surely one little test fire couldn't hurt, right?

A little while later there was a resounding boom from up in the ice rink. Five ducks raced to investigate and found Nosedive in the stadium. The rink had an enormous, smoking hole in it and chunks of ice had been blown everywhere.

"I guess someone really hates hockey, huh?" Nosedive said, not so subtly hiding his bazooka behind his back. Everyone glared at him.

"Nosedive," Wildwing growled.

"Okay, I'm sorry," Nosedive said, "but I swear it was an accident."

"How do you _accidentally_ blow up a rink?"

"I was just gonna shoot some explosive pucks and watch 'em blow up in the air, but the bazooka didn't fire, so I started messing with it and I accidentally pulled the trigger again... and then that happened."

"Nosedive–"

"Okay, don't kill me. I'll make up for it."

"How?"

"Uh, what do you want?"

Everyone looked at Wildwing expectantly. He thought for a moment, then sighed. "Just clean up as much as you can for now."

"On it, bro."

"And give me the bazooka."

"What?!" Nosedive shrieked, hugging the bazooka. "But I love it."

"Nosedive."

"I promise I'll never use it ever again, okay? I'll put it up on my wall and never take it down. And I'll even come up with some kind of self-punishment for blowing up the rink."

"Fine," Wildwing said. "Just start cleaning. Now."

* * *

A few hours later, the ducks (minus Nosedive) were relaxing in the rec room and Wildwing was explaining how Nosedive had gotten the bazooka.

"Okay, why did Thrash's uncle have a bazooka?" Duke asked.

"That's what _I'd_ like to know," Wildwing replied. Then Nosedive walked in and sat down.

"Well, I cleaned up the stadium," he said. "We're gonna have to call someone to fix the hole, though. So, what are we watching?"

No one answered. They just stared at him. It was Wildwing who finally asked the obvious question.

"Uh, Dive... why are you wearing a dress?"

And wearing a dress he was – a purple satin dress that didn't fit him very well, to be exact.

"This is my penance for blowing up the rink," Nosedive said. "I'm gonna wear this for a whole 24 hours, and it's gonna be horrible. Seriously, how are you even supposed to move in these things?"

"That's _my_ dress," Tanya said, looking ready to strangle him.

"Well, none of Mallory's would fit me," Nosedive responded. Mallory suddenly looked both disgusted and furious.

"You tried on _all_ of my dresses?"

Now realizing his life was probably in danger, Nosedive started to make a run for it, but both girls tackled him to the ground. Wildwing debated on whether he should try and help him. He _had_ blown up the rink after all. But, being the good brother that he was, Wildwing dove into the pile of flailing limbs and attempted to free Nosedive.

"Okay, guys, that's enough. Hey!"

Unfortunately, Mallory got him in a chokehold and that was that.

"Should we help them?" Grin asked. Duke thought about it, secretly amused by the chaos.

"Yeah."

He pried Tanya off of Nosedive, and Grin simply lifted Mallory and held her up in the air.

"I suggest you run, little friend," Grin said. Nosedive scrambled to his feet and bolted toward the door.

"I'll give your dress back tomorrow, Tanya!" he yelled on his way out.

"Just keep it!" she yelled back.

Once Nosedive was safely away, the angry girls were released. Wildwing was still on the floor.

"Well, I'm gonna go burn my dresses," Mallory said. "You okay, Wildwing?"

"Oh, yeah," Wildwing replied breathlessly. "Just get me some aspirin, please."

* * *

Later, Tanya was testing her prototype teleporter gun on the new intern and Nosedive was watching. Tanya aimed the gun at the intern, who was very calm about the situation, and fired. He disappeared in a flash of green light.

"Awesome!" Nosedive said. "Where did you send him?"

"Mars," Tanya replied casually.

"Cool. Hey, try it on me now."

"Are you sure?"

"Come on, Tanya. I've always wanted to go to Mars."

Tanya shrugged. Then she stepped back and pointed the gun at him. "Consider this payback for wearing my dress."

"You may fire when ready, Gridley," Nosedive said.

Tanya fired, and Nosedive instantly found himself in the alien expanse of Mars. There were unicorns wandering around, but this didn't seem relevant. Then Nosedive realized he was, in fact, on a unicorn, but this also didn't seem relevant. The intern was sitting on a rock a few feet away.

"Hey, man," Nosedive said. The intern simply waved in response, looking bored. Then Nosedive looked down. A boy wearing a camel costume and holding a bazooka was standing there, looking up at him blankly. This _did_ strike Nosedive as odd.

"Who are you?" he asked the boy.

"Beware the mice," whispered the boy.

"Mice?"

Then three giant mice in biker clothes raced by on motorcycles and disappeared into the Martian desert.

"Hoopla!" yelled the boy in the camel costume. Nosedive looked at him, then at the intern, then at the unicorn he was riding. It suddenly occurred to him that none of this made sense.

"What the..."

Then he woke up. An empty plate of quadruple-spicy tacos was next to his face, along with an open comic book.

"Oh, boy, what do they put in those tacos?" Nosedive said, shoving the plate off his pillow. "Mice on motorcycles. Give me a break."

He tried to make himself more comfortable, which turned out to be impossible as he was still wearing the dress. This was going to be a very long 24 hours. If only that bazooka hadn't made him blow up the rink...

As he began drifting back to sleep, he wondered if there really were giant mice on Mars. He also concluded that owning a unicorn would be fantastic and made a mental note to ask Wildwing about acquiring one.


End file.
